


Tattoos&Text Messages

by Aliyah_Faith



Category: 5SOS, One Direction (Band), five seconds of summer
Genre: Fluff, Long Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 18:32:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aliyah_Faith/pseuds/Aliyah_Faith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some Marry for yah:)</p><p>Michael *doesnt* like one direction. No way. He *doesnt* own all of their CD's, because "that pop music is dumb, dude". And he definetely doesnt have a small but serious attraction to the curly haired one with a ton of senseless tattoos. And they dont exhchange numbers at a club and begin a long distance relationship. Uh-uh. No way. But they kinda do. </p><p> </p><p>Oh god, im sorry. I suck at descriptions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tattoos&Text Messages

Michael didn’t mean to start liking One Direction, he always laughed with his friends and rolled his eyes changing the station when a song came on, until the one time he didn’t. He was alone in the car and a song started. Before he realized it was a One Direction song, he found himself nodding his head slightly, listening. And that's all it took. Later that night he watched all of their videos on YouTube, finding himself slightly obsessed with the curly haired one. There was something about him. He had ordered the CD’s and did his best to keep them hidden from his friends. When one of them found the CD’s he laughed and blamed his cousin, claiming she left them. He would just smile at them and shake his head declaring a ‘hell no, I don’t listen to that dumb pop music..”. Within two more weeks he knew every song and had a folder on his phone specified for the curly haired boy. He even had a folder for the tattoos; he didn’t know what to think of them. He wanted to know what each of them meant, so he sat down and googled it.

Five hours later he found himself knowing everything about the band, all of their tattoos, what the fans thought they meant, each of their names, and his obsession for Harry, the one with the ridiculous tattoos that shouldn’t look good on anyone, but somehow he was able to pull them off, hadn’t gone down. It actually went up. He shook his head, repeating daily that he didn’t listen to those dumb love songs or stupid pop music, and that Harry was most likely straight and he needed to stop being such a girl, but he couldn’t. So when the opportunity came to win tickets to a concert nearby, and he spent all day on the phone calling in only to lose, he was crushed inside, although he would never admit it. He decided that night to go with his friends up to the bar anyways. He was barely old enough to drink, but he was legal and that was all that mattered. They headed up to the club, and no Michael didn’t stare out the window as they passed the packed arena, he swears.

A few hours later he was loosened up. Not drunk by any means, he could still walk a straight line, but he was relaxed enough to not care. His friends had disappeared in to the crowd in hopes of getting lucky and he sat there telling the bartender about his problems being obsessed with a boy band when he himself was a male and how much he really didn’t listen to the music but this one guy in the band is smoking hot. After a while the bartender stopped pretending to listen and just turned away making someone else’s drink, Michael just sighed and turned on the barstool, glancing around the crowded room and almost choking at what he found in the corner booth. Sitting alone, a tall guy with arms crossed over his chest standing by him, was Harry. The guy from the band. The guy with like 40 tattoos that Michael thought about daily. ‘No-fucking-way’ Michael thought, he took another drink and stared for a few more moments. The guy sat there in the darkness of the club, glancing at his phone every now and again, and nursing a drink. After a few more sips Michael grabbed the courage to stand and walk over, sliding between people. He got close enough and the man standing there visibly tensed and shuffled a little bit, blocking for the most part, the guy sitting just patted his arm and said something Michael couldn’t quite catch, and the larger guy shuffled back to the side, watching closely. Michael smiled.

“Hey,” He started, and then mentally kicked himself for sounding so lame. He leaned in closer. “you look like that guy from that band” He spoke, surprised his voice stayed as cool as it did, because really inside he was freaking out. The guy smiled instantly and shifted, Michael caught a glimpse of the tattoos on his chest, his arms covered by a long sleeve shirt, the dimples appeared in his cheeks and Michael nearly died. Yep, it was Harry. Harry scratched his chin.

“Really?” He asked, playing coy. Michael just crossed his arms across his t-shirt clad chest. 

“Yeah, you're pretty cute” were the choice words that fell out of his mouth. And he immediately inwardly groaned, scolding himself. ‘really, Michael? ‘you're pretty cute’ is all you’ve got. The guys an international pop star, of course he’s cute, he knows he’s cute, you could have said something else, stupid stupid stup-‘ His thoughts were cut off by a deep slow voice.

“Oh, uhm… Thanks?” Harry replied, chewing the inside of his lip and letting his eyes openly slide down Michaels body, ogling. The younger boy stood confidently, convinced that the drinks must have made him invincible and in the morning he was going to remember this and cry of embarrassment, but he wouldn’t have anything other than his memory to remember this by, unless…

“Can I get a picture?” He asked, leaning in closer to the table. Harry just let a smile play on his lips as he nodded.

“Yeah, sure..” He spoke; Michael reached his hand back to his back pocket and tugged his phone out. Harry spoke again, voice a little deeper and more of a mumble. “There’s one thing I need first…” Michael raised an eyebrow at him and leaned back down to the table, resting his elbows on it, phone in hand.

“What would that be?” He asked, appalled as he realized his face had betrayed him and his mouth was set into a smirk before he could allow it. Harry just smiled back, cheeky as ever, egged on by Michaels smirk, he leaned a little bit closer, so when he spoke his hot breath hit Michaels ear.

“Your phone number” He pulled away as soon as he spoke it, feigning innocence again. Michael smiled and held his hand out for Harry’s phone. Harry realized what he wanted and handed it over. And after a few moments of struggling to find the contacts, he added himself and handed the phone back, Harry hit a few buttons and pulled up the camera. “Lean in, ill text the picture to you” He spoke, and for a few seconds Michael was dubious, he wanted to use his phone so he had the picture, for all he knew Harry would forget or lose the number, and he would never see that picture. But he wasn’t going to argue with the tall dark and sexy man who made a butterfly tattoo look mouth wateringly good. So he leaned in, placing an arm around the back of Harry’s neck. Harry stuck his tongue out and held the phone at an arms distance, Michael stuck his tongue out too and after a few clicks and pictures taken he pulled back, a smile on his face. He glanced around and seen his friends up by the bar, most likely looking for him to head back. He sighed and bent by Harry, pressing a ridiculously fast kiss to his cheek, but he will blush about it in the morning, before he stood straighter and disappeared into the crowd. It wasn’t until he was in the car he realized that he hadn’t told Harry his name. So he would have no idea what contact to send the picture to. Shit. Michael groaned out loud, all of his friends too far gone to pay much attention to why he was groaning. He got home and stripped out of his shirt and pants, dropping himself into bed and pulling the blankets up. His phone vibrated by him just as he was dozing and he groaned, slamming his hand onto it and unlocking it angrily. The message opened and he found himself staring at a photo of him and Harry, the caption below it read ‘sweet dreams, Michael, tlk to u later .x’ He slept clutching his phone and smiling that night.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you guys think so far??:)
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I have a beta but I NEED a britpicker, so if youre available and willing PLEASE PLEASE please pleaaasseee let me know in the comments!!! Thanks for reading:)


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